


All At Sea

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Lube, Rescue, Uniforms, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:19:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following a mission gone wrong, Alex has been cast adrift at sea in the middle of a storm and is, as usual, in need of rescuing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All At Sea

Huddled miserably as far down in the boat as he could get, Alex wedged his feet under one of the central spars as meagre insurance against being washed overboard. He'd given up the futile attempt to bail with his hands when he couldn't feel his fingers any more, and now the boat was dangerously low in the water.

Soaked to the skin, Alex had the feeling it was only the constant terror of capsizing that stopped him from feeling deathly sick. The heaving sea was pitch dark, rent open by occasional flashes of lightning that only served to remind him how much bigger than the fragile boat most of the waves were.

As the whole craft teetered alarmingly on a crest, Alex almost wished that they'd just shot him instead. While allegedly giving him a chance of survival by casting him adrift like this, Alex knew no-one had been fooled into thinking it was anything but a conveniently hands-off death sentence.

He hadn't been without - friends, on the ship. But they'd clearly been unable - or unwilling, whispered his treacherous mind and he pushed the thought hastily away - to come forward and help him without revealing themselves. 

The boat slid sideways down into a trough between mountains of water and he blinked spray out of his eyes.

A fading yet stubborn spark of hope in his chest believed that even now he was being searched for. But the stark truth was that the chances of even someone as resourceful as Yassen finding him in a tiny boat in this dark, terrifying sea - was so remote as to be unthinkable.

Alex tucked his head down away from the worst of the gale and closed his eyes, more than half resigned to the end but unwilling to just give in; the thought of the black water closing over his head made him shudder more violently than the cold.

Abruptly, a light shone down harshly against his eyelids, and he'd barely registered the fact that it was too sustained for a lightning flash when something struck him a hard blow against the shoulder. He opened his eyes, startled, in time to see something slither away from him over the wooden slats.

A voice yelled indistinct directions from the darkness behind the light, and something slapped into the water by his legs, showering him with drops. His numbed brain belatedly realised someone had for the second time thrown a rope at him and he dived after it, stiff fingers losing hold repeatedly until he managed to seize fast before it disappeared back over the side.

The light swayed dizzily, and Alex realised a larger boat was looming alongside his, almost posing more danger from crushing than the sea had from swamping. He knew he didn't have the strength to climb the rope, and if anyone attempted to join him in the boat, it would sink for sure. 

With the last of his strength he managed to tie the rope under his arms and yelled into the night that they'd have to pull him up. His voice was hoarse and he wondered if he'd been heard at all, but then there was a constricting pressure round his chest that made him see stars, and he was jerked bodily into the air.

The boat disappeared beneath him, sunk, or splintered to pieces by the larger craft, he couldn't tell. All he knew was abruptly there was solid deck beneath his feet, and hands were untying the rope from around him. 

Blinking into the light, Alex looked into the rain-swept face of his rescuer and attempted a smile, but his face felt frozen and he wondered if he was about to pass out. Vaguely aware that Yassen's lips were moving, Alex couldn't make out the words. Probably _Are you all right?_ or some variation. He tried to nod, and stumbled as the deck heaved under his feet.

Steadying hands grabbed him and he clung on in return, finding himself wrapped in a fierce embrace gone as quickly as it came, that still somehow managed to say more than any number of wind-stolen words.

Yassen dragged him into the relative shelter of the wheelhouse, and Alex registered properly for the first time that there were a handful of other men on board. Yassen pushed back the hood of his oilskin and tilted Alex's face up, studying him with concern. 

"Are you hurt?" 

Alex tried to form a coherent sentence to reply, but words and speech seemed a distant dream. Eventually a not entirely gentle slap across his cheek kindled a flare of warmth in his frozen skin.

He managed a shake of the head. "Cold. Just cold," he stammered. It was more than just body temperature, he felt chilled to the core, but didn't have the words or the breath to explain.

Yassen was feeling the soaked material of his jersey with a look of disgust, and before Alex could protest had stripped him of it. The night air against his bare chest was like a bucket of ice water and he gasped in protest. Yassen though, had pulled off his own oilskin, and then his thick fisherman's sweater, bundling it over Alex's head like he was an unresponsive mannequin. 

Alex managed to get his arms through the warm, rough wool and Yassen draped the waterproof round him as well. Alex tried to protest, that Yassen was left only with a shirt that was getting rapidly drenched from the driving rain, but talking was still an exertion too far. 

The boat ploughed on through the heavy seas, and Alex leaned gratefully against Yassen's side, more touched than he could ever articulate by the silently protective arm that stayed round his shoulders for the duration of the trip.

He had been too exhausted to think about where they might be going, but when the huge body of the vessel Alex had been cast adrift from surely hours before loomed into view, he stiffened in apprehension.

Yassen must have felt him tense, as he looked down and shook his head. 

"Don't worry. There's been something of a change in the chain of command since you left," he said, grimly amused. Alex digested what this meant.

"That wasn't the plan," he ventured, hesitantly.

Yassen glanced back at him, expression hard to read, eyes searching Alex's pale face. "They forced my hand," he said softly.

"Sorry," said Alex, in a small voice. To reveal their team this early - Alex had the sinking feeling he would be the reason for the whole mission getting fucked up. But Yassen shook his head slowly. 

"Not your fault." 

The boat was up against the side of the ship now and Alex wondered with faint horror if he would be expected to climb a rope ladder - but cables were being fixed in place by the silently competent crewmen and the whine of a distant winch heralded the boat lurching into the air.

Once on the main deck, Alex would have crumpled there and then were it not for the vicelike grip on his arm keeping him upright. The pain in the grasp cleared his head briefly and he managed to keep putting one foot in front of the other as Yassen guided him below decks and into a cabin.

It was much larger and more richly appointed than the sparse bunk room he'd had to share with others previously, a double bed in a niche and even its own bathroom. 

"We should have taken the ship earlier if it meant getting a room like this," Alex said, managing a tentative smile.

Yassen snorted. "Because the sleeping arrangements were at the forefront of my mind, yes." He ruffled Alex's wet hair to take the sting out of his gruff tone and moved back towards the door. "Take a warm shower and get some sleep. I need to check on how things are going."

He was gone before Alex could reply, and for a moment he stared stupidly at the closed door. There were a lot of things he felt he should have said. _Thank you,_ at least. It was less pathetic sounding than _You came_. 

Wishing Yassen had stayed, wishing he'd said more, knowing he couldn't, wouldn’t. Understanding also, the fact Yassen now had to manage a ship where over half the people on board were either prisoners or working under duress, and that it was Alex's fault for getting cast off in the first place.

He dragged himself into the shower, feeling weighed down with guilt. The water revived him a little but the warmth only seemed to penetrate skin deep. Nothing Yassen had said indicated he blamed Alex for the turn of events, but that wasn't going to stop Alex blaming himself. 

He dressed in clean dry clothes from the spare uniforms stocking the drawers, and curled up on the bed. 

Two minutes later, he got up again and fetched Yassen's jumper, pulling it on over his other clothes. Finally warmer than the wool alone could account for, he slid into a restless sleep.

It seemed like he'd barely closed his eyes when a hand on his shoulder startled him awake.

Yassen was sitting next to him, looking tired. He held out a mug. 

"Drink this."

Alex sat up wearily, and shook his head. "Not hungry." He felt hollow inside, as if it would take more than food to ever fill him again.

"Drink it." Yassen's tone hardened, and Alex took the mug obediently. A savoury soup aroma made his stomach growl, surprising him. He tried to sip at the hot liquid, only to find his hands were shaking so badly he could barely stop spilling it down himself.

Hands closed over his, steady and warm. Shifting closer on the bed, wordlessly Yassen helped him drink until at least half the soup had been consumed. 

Finally Alex pushed the mug away and Yassen conceded, placing it safely in an alcove.

"Better?"

Alex nodded without looking up, could feel Yassen frowning at him.

"You _would_ tell me if you were hurt wouldn't you?" Yassen demanded in a tone of irritated suspicion that didn't entirely mask the concern in his voice.

"I'm okay," Alex mumbled. "Really." 

"I feel I shouldn't complain, given that most of the time it's difficult to shut you up, but - " Yassen reached out and, to Alex's surprise, covered his still trembling hand with his own. "When you're this quiet it worries me."

Alex looked up at him, and shrugged weakly. "I just - I'm cold. I can't get warm."

Yassen sighed, and slid his arm back round Alex's shoulders, pulling him against his body. Alex let his head fall into the crook of Yassen's neck, gradually relaxing.

"So are you going to tell me what's really bothering you?" Yassen murmured after a few minutes of quiet drowsing.

Alex was silent for a while longer, and Yassen didn't push. Finally he looked up and sighed. "I thought I was going to die," he admitted, quietly.

Yassen eyed him. "You didn't think I would come for you?" he asked neutrally.

Alex looked down, picking at a thread on the jumper. "I didn't think you'd find me in time," he confessed.

Yassen tipped his chin up until he was looking into his eyes. "I will always find you," he promised quietly. "Always." 

He closed the gap between them and placed a light kiss on Alex's lips, as if to seal his words. Alex instinctively leaned after him when he pulled away and kissed him back, harder. 

The arms around him tightened and Alex was dragged into Yassen's lap, kissing fiercely now, grasping at each other in a relief that could safely be disguised as merely passion.

It ended with Alex sprawled breathless amidst the pillows, Yassen lying half over him, fingers in his hair. Alex could feel Yassen hard against his leg, and pulled him closer, tighter, as if there'd been any slack in the embrace to start with. Too tired to respond in kind, he was still half-disappointed when Yassen merely pulled the covers over them both and arranged them in a more comfortable position for sleeping, still both fully dressed.

"If you want - ?" Alex mumbled, sleepily amenable.

"Get some rest," Yassen murmured back, a warm, heavy presence at his back. "Plenty of time for that." 

"I'm sorry," Alex whispered, once the light had been turned out and the whole world had shrunk to the distant swell of the sea far below and the warm circle of Yassen's arms.

"What for?" Yassen's breath tickled the back of Alex's neck, and he smiled at the touch of lips that followed.

"Fucking things up for you. Again." 

"A good plan is always adaptable." Yassen kissed him again, under the ear, then laughed quietly. "And you're right. I do prefer these sleeping arrangements."

Alex found his hand under the covers and twined his fingers in between Yassen's.

"You know you're making me feel worse by being nice about it," he smiled.

"Not my fault if you're an idiot." Yassen shifted against him and Alex was abruptly reminded of the fact that the Russian was still apparently in a state of considerable arousal. "But if it makes you feel better I'll take it out on you tomorrow."

Alex's smile became a grin in the dark, and he wriggled back against him snugly. Warm to the core, at last.

\--

Alex awoke to the sound of rain lashing against glass, and for a moment was confused as to where he was. Opening his eyes he found it was daylight, and he was alone in the bed. Outside the porthole, the storm was still raging, and he pulled the covers round him, reluctant to get up.

After a few minutes' dozing, the door opened to admit Yassen, and Alex raised his eyebrows in amusement. He was wearing a full dress uniform, pristine white and with slightly too much gold braid. 

Alex sat up. "Gotta love a man in uniform," he muttered, and Yassen snorted. 

"You're clearly feeling better."

"Uh huh." Alex stretched his shoulders experimentally. He felt sore and stiff but a hundred percent better than he had the night before.

"Good. I need you up top." Yassen handed him a bundle he'd been carrying and Alex realised it was a matching uniform. "The American harbour authorities are a twitchy bunch and we're not the crew they're expecting. You'll present a more respectable impression than most of the others. Think you can pull off a First Officer?"

Alex opened his mouth to reply and Yassen immediately held a finger up warningly. He giggled instead. "Yes sir."

"Good." Yassen turned to go.

"Yassen." 

"Mmmn?"

"Promise me something?"

Yassen waited, and Alex flushed slightly, running his fingers over the brass buttons of the jacket in his lap. 

"That you'll fuck me in this, later?"

Yassen crossed back to the bed and bent over him. "That's a promise," he murmured, before kissing Alex with such intent thoroughness he was left semi-hard and breathless. 

The nasty thought occurred to him that it was probably in Yassen's mind that if the day went badly there might not be a later, and he tried to pull him down into the bed there and then. Yassen though, disentangled himself reluctantly from Alex's grasp and stood up.

"We've got a job to do," he reminded him gently.

"I know." Alex sighed. 

"Later. I promise." Yassen cupped his jaw with one hand and kissed him again, slowly and deeply, giving Alex his full attention for the last, lingering moment before they would both need to concentrate on other things.

\--

Yassen stood at the window, glass held loosely in his fingers, looking down over the compound. A fire was burning itself out in one of the sheds, and groups of men were milling back and forth, jubilant and drunk. There would be others still alert, he knew, positioned on the perimeter, even though he expected no further trouble. Beyond the walls, the last flare of sunset was staining the sea crimson, an echo of the flames below.

Behind him, the door opened quietly and he turned as Alex entered the room. Somewhere along the way he'd lost his hat, and one button was missing from his uniform jacket, making it flap loose across his chest.

Alex locked the door carefully behind him and leaned against it, looking suddenly weary now he was in private. 

"All sorted out there," he reported as Yassen came over. "Perimeter secure, comms are up, nightwatch is set."

Yassen nodded without replying, studying Alex minutely now he had the leisure to do so. There was one red scratch across the boy's cheek, but otherwise he'd come through the fighting unscathed. They both had.

Squirming under Yassen's scrutiny, Alex straightened up and moved closer. "What?" he demanded, half-smiling, half-nervous that he'd forgotten something, fucked up in some way.

"You did well today," Yassen murmured, finally.

Alex flushed and ducked his head, but Yassen's hand came to rest on his cheek, tilting his face back up to meet his gaze. 

"I mean it." Yassen's hand moved down, trailing lightly over the buttons of Alex's uniform. "You look good in that," he added, teasingly.

"I'd look better out of it," Alex replied, raising a suggestive smile.

Yassen smirked. "You look like you should be standing to attention."

"Oh, believe me, I am."

Amused, Yassen let his hand trail lower until he was cupping Alex's groin. "So you are," he murmured.

Alex shivered under the touch and would have pressed forward into his arms, but Yassen held up an admonishing finger. 

"Did I say you could move?"

Alex rolled his eyes and stiffened his posture into something that wasn't quite parade-ground perfect. He fixed his gaze somewhere over Yassen’s shoulder, resigned to whatever the Russian was going to make him endure before deciding to get round to fucking him. 

Yassen's finger was back on his groin, rubbing slowly up and down the line of his erection.

"Those trousers. Look kind of - tight," he observed absently.

"Uniform was a bit too small. Couldn’t fit anything underneath," Alex replied, a note of breathlessness entering his voice.

Yassen quirked an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," Alex confirmed, straight-faced. The pressure on his dick was relentless, yet frustratingly light. Yassen watched Alex swallow hard and bit back a laugh.

"Am I being annoying?" he breathed, leaning in close.

"Not - exactly the word I'd use," Alex managed. 

Yassen circled him slowly, assessingly, hand never leaving Alex's body, stroking over the curve of his arse, up his side, before coming to rest back on his chest, toying with the flap of jacket where a button had been torn off. He tutted.

"Such carelessness."

"I lost the hat, too," Alex added, sounding more hopeful than repentant.

"Anyone would think you _wanted_ to be disciplined," Yassen said, mouth next to his ear.

Alex was silent, but his teeth worried at his lower lip until he caught himself doing it. "Whatever you say," he replied finally, in a rather strangled tone.

Yassen took pity on him and gave in too, to his own desire, pushing Alex towards the bed with a hungry noise. Alex went willingly, dropping to the covers with a groan of relief and opening his arms to the man above him.

Yassen straddled his legs, unfastening Alex's trousers with nimble fingers and pulling them halfway down his thighs. Alex's cock rose up over his belly, hard and proud, and before Alex realised what he intended, Yassen had bent and taken him into his mouth.

As lips and tongue covered his shaft in a soft, sensual attack, Alex closed his eyes in surprised and breathless pleasure. He hadn't expected this, had anticipated after the fighting that Yassen would have been in a more - demanding - mood. Although the mouth engulfing his cock was certainly demanding, as Yassen sucked him down to the base, hands stroking between his thighs, over his balls, too gently, driving him crazy. Tongue licking, pushing, teasing.

Alex had a sudden vivid image of Yassen earlier that day, in the midst of the battle for the compound. Alex had been away from the main fighting himself, he still hated killing and Yassen never required it of him - but there was something about the way Yassen handled a gun that did things to him Alex suspected were immoral on a number of levels.

His fingers grazed through Yassen's close-cropped hair, instinctively trying to warn him he was close, but it was no good, in the next instant Alex was spilling his load into Yassen's mouth, helplessly shaking under the force of his climax, coming even harder as he felt Yassen swallow around him.

Panting, Alex tried to stammer an apology as Yassen sat up, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"Sorry, I - didn't mean - wasn't going to - "

Alex's words were lost as Yassen's mouth found his in a rough kiss, pushing him back down to the bed, invading tongue hot in his mouth. Alex tasted himself, felt the Russian's rigid cock pressing against his stomach through the ridiculous uniform and felt himself getting hard again almost immediately.

When they broke the kiss for want of air, Alex laughed weakly. "Your idea of discipline has changed in the last couple of days," he teased, and got a wolfish smile in return.

"I haven't finished with you yet," Yassen promised.

Alex started to unbutton his jacket, but Yassen stopped him, a hand over his.

"Leave it on."

Alex's cock twitched and he licked his lips. "Yes _sir,_ " he whispered, making Yassen laugh.

"Turn over," he ordered, shifting enough to allow Alex the space to comply and undoing his own flies.

Alex was sprawled on the bed in front of him, jacket riding up to expose a pale strip of his back, old, white scars visible across the skin. Yassen let his fingers trace the lines of them for a second, not quite touching, knowing Alex was painfully self-conscious about them. 

Sometimes he ached to kiss them, to follow them with his tongue, to make Alex believe how beautiful he found them, but it was an uphill battle, and now wasn’t the time.

He let his hands rest on the curve of Alex's buttocks instead, enjoying the swell of warm skin dimpling under his fingers. Alex let out a sigh of encouragement and parted his legs as wide as he could, hampered by the trousers still tangled about his knees.

Yassen leaned over him, the tip of his cock brushing the crease of Alex's arse, his chest against the thick cotton of Alex's uniform jacket, his own hanging open now, the better to feel the full friction of their coupling.

His mouth found Alex's ear, curls of blond hair tickling his nose.

"Do you want me to fetch lube?" he asked, one hand sliding around Alex's waist, pulling him up into his body, cock sliding between Alex's thighs and sending shocks of arousal through them both.

Alex shook his head, tightly. "No."

"Sure?" Yassen bit experimentally at the back of his neck and Alex whimpered.

"Sure. _Please._ "

Yassen gave a low laugh, pleased with the answer and so hard now it was bordering on painful. Still, he took his time, spreading Alex open, penetrating him first with careful fingers and probing tongue, stretching and laving until Alex was shaking beneath him, begging weakly into the bedclothes, and Yassen's stomach was smeared with his own pre-come.

He lined up against Alex's hole, the soft gasp he gave as the head touched him making Yassen's cock throb unbearably. He pushed forward, resistance giving way to tight wet heat, thrusting all the way in and making Alex cry out.

All the emotions of the previous two days, so carefully reigned in, now spilled out as Yassen relinquished his fierce control and fucked his younger lover with merciless force. Fear of loss, anger, relief, all mingled and were let go of as Yassen drove again and again into Alex's body, hands gripping his hips hard enough to mark, all pulsing heat and sweat and the scrape of rough material against his chest.

Alex's soft cries were muffled by the sheets, his legs pinned, body bucking beneath Yassen’s relentless pounding, his own cock rutting into the mattress, desperate for a second release, needing this, the pain as much as the pleasure, to remind him he was alive.

\--

The sun had slipped below the horizon and the only glow in the dark window came from the embers below.

Sweat-stained hair was plastered against Alex's neck, his jacket discarded on the floor with Yassen's, both of them naked now, as the Russian, finally spent, came hard. Alex, on his back now, clamped his legs around Yassen's waist as the hot rush of his orgasm spurted into Alex's body.

Alex, wrung out and pleasantly aching, felt his third orgasm of the night steal up on him, coming over both of them, barely anything left and shivering uncontrollably on the comedown.

Yassen held him possessively tight and Alex drifted finally to sleep, a contented smile on swollen lips.

Only when Alex was deeply asleep did Yassen slide carefully from the bed, tucking the covers around him so Alex wouldn’t notice his absence. He went into the bathroom and showered away the traces of their exertions and the sweat of the day.

Afterwards, he retrieved his drink, standing naked by the bed and watching Alex sleep. He needed little himself at the best of times, and after a day such as they'd had, Yassen knew it would be futile trying for it yet.

He thought back to the day before, how close he'd come to losing Alex forever. Part of him wanted to keep the boy safely out of harm's way, but a weaker part kept him resolutely at his side. Alex was, after all, a valuable asset, and it could be argued he was safer where Yassen could keep an eye on him. However plausible the reasons though, Yassen was too self-aware to know it was anything other than selfishness. He _wanted_ Alex with him.

Alex frowned in his sleep, and Yassen sank down onto the bed, smoothing a hand over his forehead until Alex sighed and fell back into a more peaceful rest.

Yassen had watched him grow from a boy into a young man, and sometimes wondered how much of that watching had been done while Alex was asleep like this.

Yassen swallowed the last of his drink, savouring the burn in his throat and the warmth in his belly. Somewhere outside, a crash sent a cloud of glowing sparks up past the window as the frame of the outbuilding finally fell in on itself.

Alex opened his eyes, disoriented, and Yassen rested a reassuring hand on his side. "It's okay. It's nothing."

Alex stretched, and smiled. "Stop watching me sleep."

"I wasn't."

Alex reached out and took his hand. "Come back to bed, you liar."

Yassen let himself be pulled back under the covers, Alex nestling immediately into his arms with a trust that made him ache. After everything the world had thrown at him, that Alex still had it in him to love like this - to love _him_ \- 

Alex was looking up at him. "Stop it," he murmured.

"Stop what?" Yassen blinked at him, genuinely lost.

"Overthinking."

Yassen sighed, pressed a kiss into his hair. "Was I?"

"Usually." Alex kissed him back, on the lips. "So unless you want a spanking..."

Yassen laughed out loud. "You think you could take me?"

"Damn right I could!" Propped up on his elbow, sleep-softened and in need of a shave, Alex grinned at him.

Both laughing now, Alex let Yassen pull him back down into his arms, running his fingers over the Russian's chest and humming appreciatively. "Not fair."

"What isn't?" Yassen's fingers curled round the back of Alex's neck as the blond head dipped over him, tongue teasing at one nipple.

"You showered." Alex transferred his attentions to the other nipple. "You smell all clean. And I smell all - I smell - "

"Dirty," finished Yassen in an approving growl that tightened things in Alex's stomach despite his former tiredness. He could feel Yassen getting hard against his thigh and smiled to himself. A successful distraction, he thought thankfully. 

Alex lived in, if not fear then at least paranoia of the day Yassen decided he would be safer elsewhere. He wasn't going to let that happen. They needed each other too much. 

And as Yassen's kiss deepened and Alex melted into his embrace, he had the thought that maybe after all Yassen wouldn't let it happen either.

\--


End file.
